There's Fire In The Water
by KairiKuchiki
Summary: Castiel falls from grace after Metatron uses it to close and seal off all access to Heaven. Now at home with the Winchesters, they pull themselves back onto their feet with the usual: a new hunt. It all seems normal besides the slightly odd behaviour from both Dean and Castiel, until the hunt takes some unusual turns that draw them both closer to the waters, testing their relation
1. Preface

_His toes dig into the sand, the smell of salt and ocean water wafting around him as the wind pulls the tides in closer._

_It's quiet._

_He's assuming it's getting late, but it could also be the heavy fog rolling in from the ocean, blocking out any and every source of sunlight._

_Dean casts his gaze upward, and through the fog he sees a figure falling from the sky - a head first plummeting spiral that takes the air from his lungs as he watches in complete awe and amazement. It takes him a moment to realize that the figure is a person, and that they're falling right into the middle of an ocean that's being conducted with angry waves and vengeful undertows._

_They land with a splash that sends waves spiraling outward in rage towards the shore, and it takes just a few seconds for the water to calm and reach Dean's feet._

_As the tides continue to pull in more, the water traveling further up shore, he notices small black shadows floating toward him, until he finds that they aren't shadows at all._

_They're feathers._

_Suddenly he can't stop himself from rushing into the water, the waves heavy and pushing against him, preventing him from moving as fast as he'd like to. And as he continues to move forward, the more it feels like he's moving away from the catastrophe that he knows is a fallen angel._

_A catastrophe that he knows is Castiel._


	2. Drowning

_**Alright! I'm so sorry, it's been like.. 4 months since I've updated. But I have good reasons, I promise!**_

_**After March I officially hit a wall with writing. Honestly, it was the worst writer's block I've ever gotten. But it also gave me time to figure out what exactly it is, that I wanna do with this fic.**_

_**So, after that, (It gets better, I swear.) I had a concert at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with my school orchestra. That took up a ton of my time, with ton of practice. It was a success, though.**_

_**So theeeen, heading into June, I went to a convention (ColossalCon. I cosplayed Castiel), then I had to go to an orchestra program at Baldwin Wallace University. You know what that means? More cello playing for me. I had 3 hour long rehearsals each day, plus Supervised Practice (which was a hour) and Sectionals (Which was also an hour.) I was internally screaming, my shoulders hurt so bad.**_

_**Right after that, I had another orchestra program at Tri-C. But do to breaking out in hives, I dropped out of that. My friend told me I was allergic to summer. I just laughed.**_

_**Then, I had private cello lessons to attend to. My last lesson was two ways ago, though, because my teacher is moving to Florida. I almost cried.**_

_**Freaking.. cello. Good god.**_

_**I finally sat myself down and said, If I don't update soon, then this fic is gonna fall off the face of the earth.**_

_**The thing is, with me, I can't just write like some people do. I have to be inspired by something. Lately, I haven't really had any inspiration. But yeah,**_

_**Here I am. Updating. Please don't hate me, I'm so sorry, oh gosh.**_

_**But I'll try to update as much as I can. It might not be every week. I might be every month. But for the sake of you guys, I'll try to make it every week and a half, alright?**_

_**Alright, with that said, here's the new chapter. Things are going slow, Dean and Cas haven't really figured out their relationship, yet. It's all just, kinda rolling into a bigger ball as time goes on.**_

_**Leave me feed back! Tell me what you'd like to see, some ideas, a few things I can work on! And please, please, please, bear with me. I'd hate it if you were to abandon this fic, because then I'd probably abandon it.**_

_**Okay, I'm done rambling. Enjoy! I love you guys, and thank you for making this fic possible for me!**_

_**xoxo, Kai.**_

* * *

Castiel wakes up with a dull throb in his head and a jabbing pain in his shoulder blades. He breathes in deeply, still disoriented by his extended sleep and the events of the previous days, and suddenly the memories come rushing back to him like tidal waves.

His chest feels as if it's been stuffed with cotton and dull needles, with all of the wrong doings he's ever done in his time of existence. He finds that he's done more harm than help, and that if perhaps God hadn't created him with celestial intent, hadn't given him wings, or possibly hadn't created him at all, the Gates of Heaven would still be open, and his brothers and sisters would be alive. None of this would have happened.

He breathes in deep, and raises his arm to cover his eyes, willing back the sudden rush of emotions. There's a lump in his throat and it hurts to swallow, and his limbs feel as if they're being weighed down by bricks. And just as he finds himself about to roll over and fall back asleep, hoping that neither Sam nor Dean come in to check on him, he hears someone clear their throat and his breath catches, before he looks over and finds that Dean is sitting in a chair next to his bed. He realizes that he was so focused on his thoughts that he didn't hear the elder Winchester come in.

The first thing he goes to say is that he's sorry, that he didn't intend for things to pan out the way they did, but when he tries to speak, all that comes out is the broken thread of a voice that used to be much stronger. He loses his composure, and that's exactly what he doesn't want to do in front of Dean.

It hurts to cry. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to move, and it hurts to live. He's silently crying, tears flowing down his cheeks in steady streams, and the more he thinks about how lost he is, the heavier his sobs become. But they aren't loud. They're the silent cries of help that make your throat hurt and leave your lungs deprived of air.

He covers his face with his hands, trying to breathe in and focus, but now that he's started crying, he can't stop. He hates the fact that he can't control his body, and that he can't control these horrible emotions. He'd always believed humanity to be beautiful, but now he finds himself wondering how humans do it.

Castiel feels the bed dip as Dean lies down beside him, and he immediately curls into him, Dean's arms acting as anchors to pull him back to reality when they wrap around him. Delicate fingers begin running through his hair and the more Dean holds him, the more Castiel finds himself calming down.

His eyelids become heavy, and he finds himself falling back asleep. The last thing he's aware of is Dean pressing his lips to his head and murmuring forgiveness.

* * *

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"I don't know, Sam. It's hitting him pretty hard."

Dean leans inward toward the counter, his hands gripping the marble top tightly as he breathes in and tries to focus on taking one step at a time. Everything's currently mashed into a huge ball that's blocking his path and he's trying to break it apart little by little so he can get out of this huge freaking mess.

"What about you?" Sam asks, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table and taking a seat.

"Just tired." Dean sighs, and he figures he should start the coffee and try to wake up some. "You feelin' any better?"

"I'm good - better, actually. Slept like a freakin' baby last night." Sam laughs quietly and Dean smiles. It's been a while since he's heard his brother laugh.

"How about any leads? I feel too pent up in here. It's too quiet."

When the coffee's done, Dean brings two mugs over to the kitchen table, handing Sam his before he takes a seat and adds the needed sugar to his own coffee.

"Well, there's a lead in Maine. A few men, even a few women have been disappearing off the coast of Portland. According to a woman named Katherine Wells, her husband was acting 'distant' before he disappeared." Sam sighs and leans back in his chair, bringing his coffee mug to his lips and taking a sip.

"So what, we're dealing with a case of cold feet? He probably dropped off the map because he was a cheating douchebag.." Dean leans forward, stirring his coffee with a spoon.

"I dunno, Dean. More than one person walking away from a relationship with no one ever seeing them again? Seems kinda odd, especially since they all disappeared around the same time." Sam finishes off his coffee and stands, before walking over to the counter and placing his mug in the sink. "I think we should go check it out."

"Alright, alright. I'll go bug Cas about it. He might not be ready to get back on his feet again, just a warning. You know how he was this morning." Dean stands and stretches, handing his mug to Sam and then heading to Cas' room.

* * *

Castiel is sitting on his bed, waking up for the second time today, when Dean walks in. He glances up and gives the hunter a gentle smile.

"How do you feel about getting out of the bunker for a while? Sam and I got a lead." Dean leans on the door frame, returning the smile.

Castiel takes a moment to think, and decides it'd be a good idea to move around more; to travel elsewhere and provide the Winchesters help when they need it. It's time for him to stop 'trying' and start 'doing'.

"Where would we be heading?" He asks curiously, moving to sit on the edge of the bed with his hands folded between his knees.

"Portland, Maine. A few disappearances and weird behaviour. We were gonna go check things out." Dean shrugs and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I'll even buy you some souvenirs, sound good?"

Castiel nods, but frowns suddenly as his stomach turns, before rumbling and letting out a low growl.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"I'm hungry."

"Well, get dressed and we'll head out in about half an hour."

* * *

On their way to Portland, they made multiple stops, one of them being a clothing store so they could get Castiel some clothes of his own, and the other being Subway so they could get food. The drive wasn't really eventful, since Castiel fell asleep in the backseat of the Impala, leaving Dean and Sam in a comfortable silence.

"How's he doing?" Sam asks quietly, careful not to wake Castiel up.

Dean sighs and his hands grip the steering wheel tighter, and he glances at the rear-view mirror, catching sight of Castiel's sleeping form. "I'm worried about him, Sam."

Sam notices Dean tense up, but decides not to say anything about it. "I know. I am too, Dean. Maybe he just needs some time to, I don't know.. Adjust?"

"What if he doesn't adjust, Sam? What if time isn't enough and he doesn't.." Dean cut himself off as they pull into the parking lot of a small motel, before he cuts the engine and leans back in his seat, making no movement to get out of the car.

Sam sighs and looks at Dean briefly, before he shakes his head and opens the passenger side door.

"I guess you just have to continue to have faith in him, then."

* * *

While Sam goes to get them a room and pay for everything else, Dean opens the door to the backseat of the Impala and gently bats at Castiel's face in attempt to wake him up. The former angel starts awake, both ready to attack whoever disturbed him, and defend himself, but Dean places his hands on his shoulders gently. Holding him still.

"Woah, easy there, tiger. You can go back to sleep once we get into the motel, but you aren't sleeping in the car." Dean gives him a small smile and steps back, allowing Castiel more room to get out.

They all pile their way into the motel room, dumping their things on tables and chairs. It's going on 12 o'clock, and Dean is so exhausted from driving the whole day, that when the beds come into sight, he plops down on one of them, more than welcoming the scratchy sheets and stiff pillows. He's about to pass the fuck out when a sudden thought pops into his mind.

"Cas, where're you gonna sleep?"

"I'll be fine. You and Sam have been watching the road all day. Get some sleep." Castiel nods in reassurance and takes a seat at the small table next to the motel windows.

Dean hesitates for a moment, debating on a decision, and after a few seconds he scoots over to one side of the bed he's on, patting the unoccupied side with his hand. "C'mon." He murmurs quietly.

Castiel looks over at him with a confused expression on his face, sitting there like a child caught in a hard decision of wrong doing. "Dean, I don't—"

"Cas, seriously. You aren't sleeping on a freaking chair. Or table. You'll wake up with a shitty back and neck, then you'll be in a bad mood." Dean pats the empty bed space again. "C'mon, we can share."

Castiel seems to finally agree, and he tiredly stands, stretching his arms high above his head before covering his mouth and letting out a yawn. His shoes and socks are already off, so he only pulls off his pants, leaving him in a shirt and boxer briefs. He continues to make his way over to the bed, crawling onto his side of the bed and trying his hardest not to move too much.

He finally gets comfortable and closes his eyes, breathing in deep, and the last thing he hears before sleep overcomes him, is Dean telling him goodnight.

* * *

He's swimming as hard as he possibly can, but the raging water continues to push against him. His muscles burn with effort, but he doesn't plan to stop, that is, until he sees charred, black wings being submerged in water, leaving nothing but the tide. He dives under the water and tries to catch up to Castiel, but he's sinking faster than Dean can swim, and Dean's losing air.

But suddenly Castiel stops, his body jerking softly like he's hit ground, and Dean thinks, no, it's not possible that they've hit the bottom of the ocean already.

He reaches his hand out and grips the lapels of Castiel's tan trench coat, before he, himself sinks into the sand that marks the bottom of the ocean. His lungs are burning and he doesn't think he'll be able to last another minute underwater.

Castiel's eyes suddenly shoot open in a weird coming-back-from-the-dead sort of way, and if it weren't for the fact that the situation they were in was weird enough, Dean would have jumped back and away from Castiel. He does the exact opposite, though, when Castiel starts thrashing against him, fists pounding against his chest and feet kicking in the water uselessly. Castiel tries to scream, and Dean watches as no sound comes out, just air bubbles floating furiously throughout the water.

Castiel continues to kick and punch, and there's something so real about the pain that it wakes Dean up, and he notices that Castiel wasn't just panicking in the dream, but also in real life.

It's then that Castiel starts clawing at his throat, strings of frustrated whines and whimpers leaving his mouth as his nails leave angry, red scratch marks behind on his neck. Dean takes the opportunity to grab Castiel's wrists and pin them to his chest, keeping them away from his neck and face.

"Hey, hey! Wake up, Cas. You're dreaming, it's just a bad dream."

Castiel startles awake with a gasp, his breath coming in quick, little gasps. "I.." He starts, and reaches his hands up to his neck and face once Dean lets go of him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

Dean shakes his head and reaches out, tilting Castiel's head upward to examine the scratch marks on his neck. They aren't too bad, just red lines and thankfully, no blood. "Hey, I'd rather have you wake me up than have you go through whatever hell you were just dreaming about, okay? It's fine." He pats Castiel's shoulder softly with his hand.

Castiel has this look of guilt on his face, besides something else that Dean can't quite make out, and the sight of Castiel like this makes Dean feel like someone ripped out his heart and stomped on the remains of it. So instead of exchanging more words, he draws Cas into his side and pulls the blankets over the both of them, waiting until Castiel's breathing evens out and the former angel falls asleep.

* * *

Dean wakes up around 10:30 in the morning, with a warm body pressed into his side and black hair tickling his nose. He glances over, his gaze meeting with Castiel's peaceful expression as he sleeps, and he decides he'll let Castiel sleep for an hour more.

He gets out of bed, careful not to wake Castiel, and stretches, his joints popping in all the right places. It seems that Sam is already up, sitting at the small table across the room with his laptop open, most likely writing down information about their current case. He makes a note to that after breakfast, they'll need to get a head start and stop by Katherine Wells' house for questioning.

He decides to take a quick shower, under ten minutes, and by the time he's done and dressed, Castiel is well awake.

* * *

After a late breakfast at Local Sprouts cafe, they make their way over to Katherine's house, which is located Northeast of Congress Street, on Saint Lawrence street. It's a nice neighborhood, just off of the ocean, with big houses that sit on sloped roads. The air's thick with the smell of ocean water and sea life, and the smell enhances once they step out of the Impala to make their way onto Katherine's porch. Her house looks big on the outside, so Dean assumes It'll be big on the inside as well.

A woman just a bit shorter than Castiel, with long, blonde curls and softly tanned, freckled skin answers the door, and Dean automatically knows that it's Katherine. He shoots her a soft smile and pulls his fake FBI badge out of his suit coat pocket, and Sam and Castiel do the same. She gives them a sad smile, stepping aside to allow them into her home.

The interior of the house is large, but nothing fancy. It's filled with warm colours and a few worn down knick-knacks, and when Dean looks around, he can tell that the house used to be shared between two people; Katherine and her Husband.

Katherine motions for the three of them to take a seat, before asking them if they'd like a drink. Dean and Castiel shake their heads no as they sit down on one of the couches, while Sam politely asks for a water. Katherine nods her head and disappears into a room that Dean guesses is the kitchen.

She soon returns with Sam's water, placing it on the glass coffee table in front of all three of them, before sitting down in a chair comfortably.

Dean clears his throat before he speaks, glancing at Sam and Castiel before his attention turns back to Katherine.

"Katherine, as you know, we're here to question you about your husband."


End file.
